“I know where I ain’t going—and that is to the country. Yes, I know the poem says, ‘Only God can make a tree.’ But I sure am glad God let Edison make street lights, too, also electric signs. I like electric signs better than I do trees. And neon signs over a bar, man, I love! A bar can shelter me better than any tree. And a tall stool beats short grass any time. Grass is full of chiggers. It is too dark in the country at night, and sunrise comes too early. In the daytime you don’t see nothing but animals. Horses, pigs, cows, sheep, birds, chickens. Not a one of them animals ever said one interesting word to me. Animals is no company. I like them in zoos better. Trees I like in parks, birds in somebody else’s cages, chickens in frozen-food bins, and sunrise in bed. No, daddy-o, I will not go to the country this summer. I like lights too well.”

“You see Tony flashing these lights off and on, don’t you? He is about to close the bar. We’d better get out or there won’t be any light—except daylight.”

“Doggone if it ain’t four A.M.,” said Simple. “Yonder is dawn breaking. Dawn never was as pretty in the country as it is sneaking over Lenox Avenue. Lemme get on home and see is F. D. done kicked the pillow out from under his own head. That is the kickingest boy! Punt formation! He dreams he’s playing football in his sleep—drop-kicks, place-kicks, punts, goals. Dream on, coz, but damn if I want to be the ball! If you kick me this morning, I sure will kick you back.”

“You won’t get much sleep anyhow, going to bed this late.”

“Yes, I will, too,” said Simple. “I sleep quick.”

Subway to Jamaica

Subway to Jamaica

“F. D. WERE not there when I got back home last night in spite of the fact that it were 12:30, past P.M., so I came back out. I did not see you, so I went back in—and I come back out again. I broke my money-savings rule not to drink more than one beer on myself so I can pay for that divorce. I bought four, also a drink of whiskey. I was worried about that boy being a new boy in the block and a stranger in town—some of them young hellions might of ganged him.

“I stood on the corner of Lenox Avenue and looked up and down. No F. D. I walked to Seventh Avenue and looked up and down. No F. D. All the movies was closed. Nothing but bars open, so I went in a bar I had never been in before.